Only after Christmas is there time. Time for reflection about the abundance of food for family
It is easy to slide back into routines of work or play without a thought
for those who have neither.
Ill equipped to heal society's sores, easier to pass them by, gratitude for the fullness of life is a beginning.
“You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might also
pray in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance,”
~ Kahlil Gibran
Time stretched before me.
No dinners to prepare, only
dishes in the sink, most filling
the dishwasher. Details of my
life lay scattered about like
dry leaves in the fall. A vague
feeling niggled that someone
should restore order, but maybe
not right this minute. Or even
the next. So putting on winter
boots, my jacket, and back pack,
I went for a walk. The streets
were rutted with brown mushed
up snow, pads of ice hiding beneath.
Sidewalks were cleared. Not down
to the cement, but shovelled and
padded flat by many feet. Little
brown birds ~ maybe juncos, maybe
sparrows, maybe both ~ chitttered and
chattered into the cool winter air.
Refreshed and home, I lazily
put some of my home in order.
An aura of calm settled, brightened
by soft lights and colours of Christmas.
“Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.”
~ Paul Theroux
My thoughts drifted as sleep beckoned.
Stretched out on my couch, I contemplated
these last three days of celebration ~ a gift larger than could be put in a box or bag.
Too unwieldy to wrap in gold paper or the
kind with snowmen on it. So the bow on it is the one in my memory. Grandchildren tearing open gifts with more toys,
expressions of love from parents and family, playing with them for two seconds before going onto the next, while grandparents laugh, talk and admonish. Meanwhile the
food spread on tables from this home to another, grazed on with groans of ‘I’m so full!’
while another bite of delicious fresh bread, pie
or turkey disappears. Secular or religious, it is still a gift for all time.
“Each day provides its own gifts.”
~ Marcus Aurelius
and to all a good night.
Overstuffed, grateful and happy.
“Christmas is a togethery sort of holiday, That’s my favourite kind.”
~ A.A.Milne, (from Winnie the Pooh)
and crackers, finger foods
to snack on before the
onslaught of tables laden
with delicious turkey and
mashed potatoes. No room
to fit all the trimmings in.
Trimmings are children,
full of curiosity and fun,
adults full of curiosity
and weightier discussions
to continue on the ‘morrow.
“Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.”
~ Charles M. Schulz
It is often said that organizing
a gaggle of children or even a conference room of adults is
like herding cats. Difficult
and well nigh impossible. This cat, Mister Jet, is only one, but equally as stubborn. He does come with his own charm. All
he has to do is turn his large golden eyes on me and I turn into servant rather than master. I hold the power
of the kibble scoop, so do have an
unfair advantage. My height, short
by human standards, is of little
consequence ~ he has claws and teeth
to balance things in his favour. Only used in
play or as love nips, I respect their
potential to cause rips and tears to
my soft flesh. We do understand each other.
“Never try to out stubborn a cat.”
~ Robert A. Heinlien, Time Enough for Love
Pens and pencils lying still
do not dream of words they
will write. Quiet til an empty
page is to be filled. When a
hand reaches out for a pen or
a pencil to write the truth,
to write of other worlds,
to write a Christmas card,
to write a grocery list or
to doodle a clown’s face
“A pen is to me as a beak is to a hen.”
~ J.R.R.Tolkien
